No Problem, No Pain

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

When I call my boys to say goodnight, I can hear her in the background. I picture them all lounging happily, enjoying life- a family.

I used to cringe in pain because I wanted to have the family that she has. I wanted the man that she has. I wanted the life that she has. I envied her. I pitied myself for not being woman enough or pretty enough or smart enough to hold on to the man I loved with everything in me. I wanted to be the wife and proud mother of his children. But that didn’t happen. And you know what?

I don’t hurt anymore.

I’m glad my boys have a woman in their life who loves them like she does. They have nothing but good things to say about her. They think she’s funny. They think she’s pretty. She’s sweet to them and gives them kisses and hugs just like I do.

It’s not a competition between me and her. My relationship with their father didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean that it was because something was wrong with me. It’s because we weren’t a good fit.

My kids have another woman in their life. A woman who loves their daddy to pieces and treats them as though they are little kings.

That’s nice.

That’s very nice.

And for the first time, in so many years.

I’m okay with that.

I appreciate that.

I’m okay…

Southern Hospitality?

This morning I went to the Jiffy Lube to get my oil checked. The brown skinned mechanic with 3 gold teeth greeted me before I even turned off my car.

“Goodmorning, how many I help you today?”

“Do you do oil changes?”

He smiled. “We sure do.”

The next 20 minutes of my life were the most pleasant 20 minutes I have ever spent in a car shop. Before I could even get comfy I was being educated on the various parts of my car that need maintenance and informed that my car was in tip top shape.

By the time I paid I was on cloud nine. These were actual MEN being..~gulp~ nice to me? Was I dreaming?

After I paid, with a discount included I gathered my reading materials and purse. Before I could even wave goodbye a gentleman appeared to open the door for me. “Have a great day,” he said warmly as I exited the building.

“Thank you,” I replied, puzzled. “You make me feel like a star.”

“You ARE a star,” he told me.

As I approached my car, yet another gentleman stood there proudly holding my door for me.

I gave him a sideways glance and raised my eyebrow.

“Thank you for stopping by,” he said and closed my door.

Huh?

I don’t understand.

I drove away in confusion.

Why are the people here so nice?

Last Friday night Byron took me to this club called Vegas Nights and I almost fell out!

The men who approached me had a totally different flow than the men in Miami.

“Excuse me Miss. I’m Jason. May I have a minute of your time? What’s your name?”

One man bumped into me and quickly apologized, “No disrespect Shawty, I don’t mean to invade your space.” He just walked away. And I was told that this was supposed to be a ‘hood’ club. Huh?

Ok. Shoot me if I seem to be a bit naiive but I’m not used to men being nice to me like that. It’s kinda scary. Why are they acting like that? What do they want?

I am not used to all this friendliness, smiles and chivalry.

~shivers~

It’s scaring me….

No More Vegas Nights

I pull over into an empty parking lot at about 1:30 this afternoon. I’m gagging and I can tell that I’m about to blow.

I open my car door and allow the fresh air to hit my face.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

~gag~

No, I’m not.

I stumble outside near the bushes as my new friend Tina rushes up to me with a few napkins. “You’ll feel better once it’s all out,” she tells me and walks away.

A quick poke inside my throat and I heave- all over the bushes.

yuck.

I heave again.

yuck.

One mo ‘gain.

yuck.

I am relieved.

We both hop into our respective cars and I call her phone, “Let me go home and get some rest, we’ll have to get up later.”

“Okay, Call me when you’re done with your event,” Tina says.

“Aiight Chick.”

I make it safely to Smyrna and run inside my apartment to the bathroom to heave once more. I take off all of my clothes and lie on the bed, panting. My head is throbbing. I feel like death, but I have to get over it because I have an event to cover for the magazine that starts in one hour.

Maybe I’ll take a little nap. That should help.

I lie down and close my eyes, the previous night’s wild activities flooding my thoughts.

Last night…

So Tamara’s old ugly behind went out of town for the weekend, up to New York to see her man. Since Kim is too lazy to drive from Lithonia I knew that I’d have to entertain myself for the evening. The internet is out and television annoys me so I spend a few hours simply laying on the bed thinking about my life and my next goals and how I can accomplish them.

Man…I wanna go out.

I call the tenderoni Byron, remember him? He’s Tamara’s fiance’s little cousin.

“Yeahhh…” he answers the phone.

“Are you at home?”

“No, I’m still at work.”

“Are you going out tonight?”

“Uh…probably not mayne. You trying to go out?”

“Yeah, I’m lonely.”

“Call your girl Kim.”

“Her lazy ass. She aint going nowhere.”

“What about your co workers?”

“I dont know them like that.”

“What about your readers and internet friends.”

“I can’t call them and ask them to hang out with me like that,” I say. “I still haven’t met any of the Atlanta people. Aww…you make me sick. I’ll figure it out.”

“Gajejkkm,” he says.

“Huh?”

“Hekjien,” he says again.

“Oh, that must be that male code talk that I don’t understand yet. I’ll figure it out one day.”

He laughs. “Aaaaaaaaiiighhht.”

He hangs up.

That boy is crazy.

I call my sorority sister Genevieve. “Hey girl, I’m thinking I want to go out.”

“Where are you trying to go?” she asks.

“Um. I only know of one club. That Vegas Nights place. I went there last week.”

“Girl, are you sure? That’s not really our style.”

“I know but I don’t wanna stay in. You feel up to it?”

“Okay. I’ll go. What time you wanna leave?”

“I’ll pick you up at midnight.”

“Ok.”

Ofcourse I get lost on the way to her place. She lives in Smyrna too but her ass can’t give directions to save her life and I can’t follow directions to save mine but I smile when I see the Gamma Sigma Sigma tags on her car and I Lugh when I read the ‘ ~heart~ PUBLIX’bumper sticker. She works in the corporate office for Publix.

We go into her place and I look around. She proudly shows me a picture of her man. That chick knows she is in love! LOL!

Ofcourse I hand her the keys to my car. I hate driving. People hate riding with me while I drive. The only logical thing to do is let her drive.

She finds the club quickly and we find parking and walk down the street to stand in the long line. The club is free. The Black people are plentiful and the women are scanned with metal detectors, our purses are searched and the men are patted down before we are allowed to enter.

“Ok, Jean,” I call her (John) because I like to call her that. “Tonight we are gonna get tipsy and dance, dance, dance.”

“Ok,” she says. “Judging from the looks of this place I have to get right to be up in here. How about we take a shot of patron?”

Patron? I heard of it. Never had it before. Why not?

We order two shots of patron and toast before gulping it down and shimmying to the dance floor.
Now I’ma be honest. It’s cool to be out and hear the songs like ‘Lean Wit’ It, Rock Wit’ It’. I enjoy doing the shoulder lean. I also take pleasure in snapping my fingers and shaking my hips doing the pool palace. I like doing that motorcycle dance they do to that one song. Hey, it’s all fun.

But um…why the hell don’t they play any other songs besides Atlanta artists?!!!

I want to shake my ASS! My ASS people! I’m from Miami dammit. Not a damn booty shake song all night!

~shakes head~

Genevieve is from Miami too and before we know it we are both yawning on the dance floor.

“Let’s go get another drink,” she suggests. It will liven us up.”

“Ok,” I say as we head back to the bar. She orders two cranberry and vodkas and we sashay back to the dance floor. This is when things get interesting.

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About 10 minutes later, everything is looking real nice. The guys have gotten cuter. The music is heavenly and we are both hugging and swaying on the dance floor as guys try to dance with us.

I feel like we are in college again! We can’t stop laughing! This whole club is so funny to us! All these guys are dancing with us and we keep laughing at them!

One guy tells me he is from Africa. I roll my eyes. “Hell no!” No African men for me ever again. Once they put it down, you will find yourself sitting outside of their house in your car with your two kids wondering when you turned into a stalker.

We dance and dance until the music ends. We try to compose ourselves as we follow the crowd exiting the club. I don’t understand. We only had two drinks each. We’re not rookies. Why the hell are we so..um…tipsy?

We hold each other and walk to the car. I can hear men yelling obscenities at us. “You bald headed bitch!” one yells at me. I don’t even look back. Some guys notice us walking stiffly to our car and they walk with us, asking us not to drive home.

“Take the keys from her,” one guy says to me.

“Huh? She’s the designated driver. I can’t drive. I had two drinks.”

“Don’t worry,” Genevieve says slowly and flops into the drivers seat. “We won’t leave. We’ll rest a minute.”

“Okay, be safe,” the guys say to us and watch as we both settle in, close and lock our doors.

“Just rest a minute,” she says and I hear her seat as it reclines.

I follow her lead and recline my seat and close my eyes.

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When I open them again the sun is shining through my dark tints. I see Genevieve stir in the drivers seat. She sits up and looks at me. We look out the window.

We’re still parked outside the club. It’s almost 7am.

“Ok,” she says quickly ans buckles her seat belt. “Let’s go back to my house and finish this nap.”

We make it back to her house quickly and dive under the covers. The alarm rings at 9:30 and I sit up. “Aiight chick, I’ll holla.”

I’m feeling a little rested but my head is killing me. I would go home and sleep the morning away but I promised this woman I met that we’d hang out this morning and I have an event to cover at 3pm. I look at my phone and she has already called me.

I laugh and call her back.

I met this chick on the first day (well..only day) I went out job hunting. She worked at the first place I went to. She is a corporate recruiter. We vibed immediately that day and I told her that I would email her my resume and come back later to finish my skills testing. She seemed really chill. She told me that she was working on her 3rd masters degree. I was like, Dammmmn! Cuz you know I ain’t NEVUH going back to school!

So when I got my job offer the very next day I emailed her and told her that I wouldn’t be back because I found a job but it was nice to meet her and thanks for the help so far. She emailed me back with her phone number saying that we should hang out sometime and I was like, ‘Cool.’

So we planned to get our cars washed together and grab some food and check out the movie Idlewild.

After getting lost, yet AGAIN, I finally found her place in Buckhead and as we cruised downtown to this amazing car detailing place called Cactus, we chatted over the phone and she told me that she was a divorced single mom with a 13 year old daughter and she owned 3 houses out here and was from New York. She told me about her ex hubby and her current guyfriend. We chatted very easily as if we’ve known each other for years.

By the time we got to Cactus we were cool as hell. We left our cars and went over to this gyro place to eat. By the end of the meal I could barely keep my eyes open because my head hurt so much.

But I managed to go back to Cactus, pick up my car and follow her part way back to Buckhead.

“I’m not feeling well,” I tell her using the speakerphone option on my cell while I attempt to drive. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Ok, let’s pull over then. That might be the best thing for you to do.”

And I did. I handled that.. Over and over again.

Now I’m better.

We’re supposed to meet up tonight to check out a reggae spot she says she wants to take me to. I want Kim to come but I can’t find her black ass…

I hope we have a good time.

Doing It BIG

I called my girl Vicky last night.

“Um, hey girl,” I said and yawned. It was almost 10pm and I hadn’t even heard from Tina yet so I assumed we weren’t going out anymore.

“What’s up girl?”

“Tell me why you don’t invite me to hang out with you?” I asked her annoyed.

“Um, maybe if I ever get off this couch, I’ll invite you out,” she replied then paused. “Ohhh…I’m sorry Tee, you wanna come over and hang with me?”

“DUH! Hello! I haven’t seen your house yet!” I said and laughed.

She laughed too. “I’m so sorry girl. I forgot.”

She gave me directions to her place and even though it was late I made the trek over there. The drive was about 20 minutes but it was well worth it.

When I pulled up to her community, all I could do was shake my head. Beautiful houses, condo’s and townhouses. Brand new. My friend has been in Atlanta for a little over a year and she is already a homeowner.

I find her townhouse and park my car. We give each other a quick hug and I smile at my wonderful friend. Vicky and I met our sophomore year in college. We pledged our community service sorority together. When I met her I liked her so much that I abandoned my single dormroom and basically moved into her dorm room for the duration of the process.

She usually sends me updates about the progress of her house but I was not prepared for the emotional sack that smacked me when I walked in. Take a look at her place.

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As she gave me the grand tour, all I could do was shake my head. I was completely numb. Here I was sitting in my friend’s house. This is her house. She owns this house. She is a few months younger than I am. She and I were in school together.

“Tee!” she said, waking me out of my mental coma. “Why are you looking like that? You’re freaking me out!”

“I’m sorry dawg. It’s just…Everyone here is doing it big. Every person that I meet is as ambitious as I am. I used to think that I was crazy for dreaming the way I do but the people here are dreaming too and accomplishing their dreams. It’s amazing to me. The mentality of the black people here is such a contrast to the mentality of the black people in Miami. Here we are prosperous.”

“And in Miami, everyone is trying to survive,” she finished for me.

“Exactly.”

I remembered what Tina said to me in our conversation yesterday. “I had to do it girl. I refuse to be another single mom statistic who barely has enough. I have so many business ventures I don’t have time to really run them all and I’m in school. I’m working on this jewelry business that I love girl and I’m going to put it on the internet. You can be one of my models. I’ll put you on my business cards. Girl, I’m trying to make money in my sleep!”

Wow.

Everyone dreams like me and Kim do.

I feel like the Joe Pesci character in the movie Casino when he decided to move to Vegas. Dude was excited because it seemed like unchartered territory. As if the people there didn’t know what they have.

Everyone here is on the hustle. Everyone here is grinding it out. Sure, alot of people have music business dreams but there are an equal amount of people who have big business dreams. Every black person has a tight resume and an investment portfolio. It seems like you can come with a little bit and achieve a lot.

Sitting in Vicky’s living room watching last week’s episode of Flavor of Love, I had an epiphany. I’m going to do it big too! I casually thought about home ownership when I was in Miami. It didn’t seem like a realistic option because all the real estate is so expensive and working on my single income, well..I didn’t get too excited about it. But here, even the college students own their own homes.

The event I covered yesterday for the magazine was a real estate development open house. One of our advertisers invited us to see the new development she is cultivating on Metropolitan Parkway. These new loft style townhomes will be 100% owner occupied. No renters in this community. I even met a 20 year old college student who had already signed her contract for her house.

20 years old.

A sophomore in college.

This city is breeding a culture of ownership and prosperity and it seems as though people from outside the community are taking advantage of this gold mine. When you meet people in business and when you’re out for fun, 9 times out of 10 the person is a transplant who has seen and heard of the goodness of this city and they ran, not walked to get their piece before it overloads.

This city is on the verge of becoming the next Miami or New York- for Black people. I want some. You should want some too.

I’m nervous because I talk a good game. I dream big and I speak as though I am already where I want to be. Now I’m at center stage. The curtain is drawn. The lights are on. It’s my time.

I work for a magazine where I am introduced daily to millionaires and the most successful business leaders around the country. I am being fed the secrets to success and I am eating it all up. I am teachable. I am ready. I believe that I will surpass even my own most grandiose fantasies.

I am about to do this shit.

OR die trying.

Nothing but death can keep me from it.

I’m not interested in simply being a homeowner, getting married and settling in. NO!

Allow me to dream out loud.

I am going to own multiple homes across the country.
I am going to own rental communities and invest in other ventures.
I am going to become a magazine editor within the next 2 years.
I am going to send my sons to the best private schools that money can buy.
I am going to continue to educate myself in order to educate others on a global scale.
I am going to receive love from a man who wants nothing more than to please God and support me in all my dreams.
I am going to win.
I am going to win.
My sons will have the utmost respect for their mom.
I will be a shining light to them.
They will grow up to be wonderful men who contribute great things to society.
I will fail some, but I will not stop.
I can not stop.
Or I will die.
I would rather die than accept failure.
I want these things more than I want my next breath of air.
Those who can not understand or contribute positively to my plight will be released from my life.
I have no room for people who want to live life on a mediocre or simple level.
I will only surround myself with people who are doing it big.
I will one day be able to donate half of my income to worthy causes.
There is no one on this earth who is more worthy of these successes than I am.
I am ignorant in some areas, but God has given me a brain- I can learn.
I will seek out those who know, and I will learn from them.
I will speak my dreams daily, reminding myself that all dreams are merely my unmanifested destiny.
I will not lose.
I will not fail.
I may fall, but I must get up.
I can not imagine my life without accomplishing these goals.
There is no room for back up plans or accepting failure.
I may fail and fail again but that only makes me more eager to taste success.
Now is my time to taste success.
I will do it big.
Bigger than life.

And so it shall be.

In Jesus name.

Do it with me.

These Are My Frustrations

I am having a difficult time adjusting to Atlanta for two reasons.

1) My internet is STILL not working at home so I can’t blog on the regular and I’m going through severe blogger withdrawal. Please pray for me.

2) I STILL don’t understand why these people, especially MEN are so nice to me.

I don’t get it. Did your Mama raise you like that? It’s scaring me! HELP!

Why are you- this man I barely even KNOW- opening doors for me, never allowing me to pay for myself, being kind and courteous and calm? What are you trying to do? What is your motive?

Last week my publisher said to me, “I am going to make sure you have everything you need to achieve greatness.”

Huh?

Who?

~speechless~

And tell me something….why is it that I always get so horny when I’m driving?

I’m sitting there gliding on the expressway, my right hand resting gently on my thigh. My left hand gripping the steering wheel firmly, up and down, up and down as I maneuver toward my destination. I squeeze the wheel tightly sometimes, just to let it know I’m in control. I like the feeling, the POWER of being behind the wheel. It gets me excited. So much so that I’m squirming in my seat before I reach where I’m going.

~whimpering~

I need some D**K!!!!!!!

Please don’t be mad at me but I was spoiled in Miami. Dude spoiled me. Now he’s not here and I have no one to handle that for me.

I need to be touched.

I’m freaking out!

I go home everyday to quiet. No internet. No kids. No nothing. Just me. I sleep on the couch because the bed feels too big. It reminds me that I am alone.

I want my Boo Boo’s! I want my booty rubbed!

I miss affection and attention and booty smacking late into the night.

~whimpering~

But I’ll be okay. I can’t mess with these men here. I heard that 50% of the men here are on the down low. And I heard that the ratio of men to women is 10:1.

~dreamy music playing~

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Will I ever get my booty rubbed again? Again? Again? Again?

Finally Connected

Guess who’s got an internet connection?

MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Get it Mama! ~pop~

Work it chick! ~shake~

Shake that thang! ~do it Mama~

Ok…I was about to sit and write a detailed description of my WORK IT OUT LABOR DAY weekend touring Atlanta but…I’m tired as hell and I’m going to bed.

So all you get is this picture to tell you how I ended up.

I’ll get the rest of the story up soon… promise.

My Work It Out Labor Day Weekend

Friday
It’s Friday night and I decide to stay at work late because I have to pick my girl Ruby up from the train station. It has been more than two years since I saw her. The last time I laid eyes on her it was a tearful goodbye in Gainesville as I handed her her extra set of car keys and she sped away to her new life in Atlanta.

Ofcourse we kept in touch through the magic of the internet and her blog but this was different…I was about to see my girl in person and I knew I’d have one helluva weekend.

I found the Amtrak station easily enough and I hung out across the street at the bookstore until an old man decided to follow me around. I quickly ran across the street and sat inside the station on a hard wooden bench trying to keep from nodding off. Twenty minutes later, the station manager announced that her train had arrived.

I stood up in plain view of the exiting passengers a smile already forming on my expectant face. When I feel someone standing too close to me I look up and it’s the old man from the bookstore with a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He extended his hand to me and I saw that he had written his name on it. “I hope you call me,” he said and grinned. I shook my head and dropped the paper in my bag. Before he could continue the conversation I looked up and there she was.

I couldn’t contain myself. I did a happy dance by clapping my hands and stomping my foot and I hugged my friend and cried. ~smile~ I missed her ugly behind so much!

We both did little twirls so we could assess how much we had both changed. Ruby’s booty was a little smaller but otherwise she looked the same. Her hair was short and curly similar to the style Eva the Diva wears. “I love your hair Ruby!” I told her. She grinned. “It’s my new style. The hairdresser set it on tiny rollers just like you get when you’re getting a curly perm.”

“Where’s Donald?” I asked her, eager to meet the love of her life.

“He’s right there,” she said and my eyes scanned the room for him and rested on this hunk of a tenderoni standing near the baggage claim.

“Is that him?” I asked, my mouth salivating. “He’s fine girl!”

“I know. That’s my man.”

Donald walks over and gives me a big hug. He has this Hawaiian look to him and he’s built like a small football player with wide shoulders and straight hair. I hear he’s part Native American. From the moment he hugged me, I knew we would become friends.

We hop into my car and roll out to dinner at TGI Fridays. Ruby notices her phone is dead and she ‘s a little disturbed that she can’t retrieve her friends numbers from her phone to call them to meet us at Fridays.

“I know,” she says. “Tee, let me use your phone. Maggie called me and left her number on my voicemail so I can call her back and let her call the rest of the girls.”

When we reach Friday’s on Peachtree I am a little perturbed. When did they start valet parking at Fridays? I hand over my keys to the valet and we walk in and are seated outside on the patio within minutes.

We ask for just one extra seat because Ruby is only expecting Maggie to show but when she spots Maggie in the parking lot, a woman calls out her name. Ruby squeals, “Ron!”

Both women make their way to our table and I introduce myself to them. It turns out Ron is a Gator grad too and I recognize her from the millions of pics that Ruby has of the two of them. She sits next to me and smiles. “I’ve read your blog,” she says. I cringe. Oh shit…

As we eat and fellowship I decide I like Ron. She has long dark hair that cascades down her back and a cute personality to match. She’s one of those nice girls who seems to get everything she wants and knows she’s hot. She tells me she’s almost done with grad school and just bought a house. Yes! She’s a winner. I’m sure we’ll be friends. I have to surround myself with upwardly mobile people and the fact that she’s a Gator grad and a 24 year old homeowner, speaks highly of her.

Ruby’s friend Monique shows up too. She wears a huge grin that is a genuine indication of the happiness in her life. I like that. No pretenders here. Monique just closed on her home as well. “It’s just a 3 bedroom 2 bath townhouse. Nothing too big until I get married girl,” she coos and grins. These women are FIRE!

We sit and munch and decide that we will go home and freshen up before we hit the club. Ruby drives us back to my place and I show them their room with the leftover Hello Kitty bedsheets from Tamara’s daughter. They both laugh as they unpack. An hour later we’re ready to go. We head to midtown and this spot called 1150. They tell us it’s $15 to get in and we turn our black asses right around. We march up and down the strip and none of the clubs there satisfy us. A crackhead spots our crew and calls us by celebrity names. Maggie was Rickie Lake and I was Grace Jones. LOL!

We hop back into the car and ride over to a spot called Halo. Once inside I look around and notice that there aren’t too many of ‘us’ there. Ron immediately heads to the bar and orders drinks for all of us. We sit and sip and take pictures but I’m not really feeling the music so I just sit and watch all of the white people stand around and talk.

After a couple of rounds of drinks Ruby is ready to go. We hug goodbye and head out for a bite to eat. Ruby is dissappointed as we drive from spot to spot. All of her favorite restaurants are closed. We finally make it to the Landmark, a 24 hour diner and I order fried fish and grits. Yummy!

By the time we make it home it’s nearly 5am. We all flop into the bed and get some rest.

Saturday
We wake up the next day and get dressed to go out. We stop by Ruby’s friend Kay’s house in Buckhead to pick her up and I realize that Kay is also a Gator grad, one of the smartest, most sassy chicks I know. She’s working on her PhD and a full time employee of the Environmental Protection Agency.

Ruby takes the wheel and takes us to Chipotle. I still don’t know how to pronounce that word but it doesn’t matter because my fajita wrap is off the heezy and I finish my food first.

Ruby’s next stop is a little shop in Buckhead where she says we will all get our eyebrows threaded. Threaded? What does that mean?

I sit down in the chair and the Asian woman steps up beside me with a piece of string in her hand as if she’s about to strangle me with it. I sit straight up. Hollup!

“Is it gonna hurt?”I ask her.

“A little,” she admits.

“No thanks,” I tell her. “Just wax me. And get my chin too.” I’m so tired of all this damn facial hair.

I feel the warmth of the wax on my forhead and I relax. But soon I feel a pinch. Almost like someone is snapping a rubberband on my eyebrows. I take a peek and see the lady with the thread, going to work on my eyebrows. I sit quietly and allow her to finish. When she’s done I inspect her work. Hmm…pretty nice. How did she do that with some thread?

A quick stop at Target to pick up some hair dye and we’re almost done. I wanted to buy more foundation because I’m all out but I can’t seem to find a spot that sells my brand; Iman- Clay 2.

“Why don’t we all just chill at your house and play some cards tonight,” Ruby suggests. “We can buy some food and I’ll cook and we can drink too. I’ll call my girls and invite them over.”

True! I call Tamara to invite her and her fiance and she says she’s game. When we hang up I say to Ruby, “Now if Tamara invites us to HER house, that would be so much better. Her house is so tight!”

Before I even finish my sentence my cell rings and it’s Tamara. I smile at Ruby and the crew in the backseat. That’s my girl!

“Tee, why don’t you and your friends come to our house tonight instead.”

“What a great idea, Tamara. I should have thought of that!” LOL!

We ride out to Stone Mountain to attend the wedding rehearsal dinner for Tamar, Ruby’s friend. Tamar’s wedding is the reason Ruby’s in town. Tamar is a Gator grad too so I smile warmly and congralulate her on her wedding which is only a day away.

I’m sitting casually in the clubhouse nibbling on some chocolate cake while the men are outside playing basketball. Three men who turn out to be groomsmen walk in wearing shorts and tees and fix themselves plates and chat with me. I’m having a grand ol time flirting when I hear Kay bust through the door and call my name.

“Tee! Girl, we’re all outside. I didn’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

I look at the men that surround me and think, “Girl, get your ass outta here!” But I smile and walk away. Good move. Keep them wanting more.

By 10pm we know we have to get going. Ruby calls all of her friends and invites them to Tamara’s house but no one seems particularly interested. It’s okay. As long as Ruby’s there, I know we’ll have a good time.

We hit the grocery store and then home to change clothes before we ride out once again all the way to Fairburn to go to Tamara’s house.

As soon as we hit the door, I give Tamara’s fiance a hug and we invade the quiet of their home. The tenderoni Byron is there too. We pull out our liquid party and showcase our choices. I had picked up a 12 pack of Heineken because I know Byron likes to drink beer. Ruby had chosen a nice white wine and Ruby’s boyfriend had purchased a bottle of Bacardi.

Tamara’s fiance dissappears and returns with his favorite purple bag of Crown Royal. He pulls out the gallon of liquor and lines up shot glasses on the kitchen table.

“Let’s toast,” he says as we all raise our shot glasses. He had poured Tamara a shot glass filled with Sprite so she could participate although even though she is pregnant.

“I’ll do it!” I squeal and announce, “May the blessings of Christ overtake us all.”

There is an eery silence. No one wants to drink to that.

“Why not?” I ask them all. “We’re not hurting anyone. No one is driving. God wants us to have a good time tonight.”

“Oh, ok,” they all agree reluctantly and we empty our glasses.

“One more!” AJ, Tamara’s fiance announces.

The smell of Ruby’s fried chicken invades our nostrils. “Hurry up and cook!”I tell her.

Before long she brings me a single fried chicken wing. It looks funny but I’m so hungry I eat it anyway.

We all head downstairs to play pool and relax. I hate playing pool so I take a seat and watch them. The music is blasting, we’re all feeling lovely and AJ brings out a playing deck with pornographic pictures on them.

Ruby and Donald sit down to play spades against Tamara and AJ while Byron in a drunken stupor decides to try to molest me in front of everyone. I’m so gone that I can barely fight him off. Instead I calmy remind him in a whisper. “You’re disrespecting me. Chill out Byron. This is not going to happen.”

He gives up and tries again 10 minutes later. He finally gives up and goes upstairs to bed.

Aj goes up to check on him and comes back downstairs laughing. “I think Byron threw up all over the bathroom. There’s throw up on the floor, on the toilet and everywhere!”

Ewww. We all laugh and continue to mingle.

Through the madness I manage to sneak upstairs to the guest room I occupy when I sleep over. I remove my earrings and clothes and snuggle into the big canopy bed.

“WAKE UP!” I awake to a screech. I open my eyes and Ruby and Tamara are standing over me.

“GET YO ASS UP!” they yell at me.

“I’m sleepy,” I whine.

“So!” Tamara says. “If I’m up you have to be up too. Now put your clothes back on and come downstairs.”

I frown and sit up. I hate them.

I head back downstairs and we all sit down on the patio and talk and talk into the night. At some point I remember getting permission from Tamara to go to bed and I fly upstairs back to the coziness of my room.

Sunday
When I wake up the whole house is quiet. I creep downstairs and start cleaning up. Taysia, Tamara’s 4 year old daughter wakes up and I invite her to keep me company while I clean.

When I’m almost done I run down to the guest bedroom in the basement and wake Ruby and Donald up. “Get up! We have to get going so I can die my hair before we go to the wedding.”

Ruby dresses quickly and passes out again on the leather couches in the living room. “I have a hangover dawg,” she tells me.

“That’s okay,”I tell her. “I’ll drive. I feel fine.”

We drive back to my house and I drop them off. If I’m going to the wedding I need new shoes. I call Tamara to ask her for directions to the mall and I head over there. I see a dress that I fall in love with. It’s a weird pattern of bright colors and I love bright colors.

Damn. Now I need shoes. On to Wild Pair for the perfect pair of gold stiletto’s. Damn. Now I need a purse to match. I call Ruby to ask if she has a purse for me to borrow. She doesn’t. So I pick up a purse and some earrings from Claire to set my outfit off.

I’m eager to hear what Ruby will say about my outfit. She’s the fashionista. I am NOT a shopper. I hate to shop and what’s worse is I feel guilty about buying clothes when I’m supposed to be saving every penny but…it’s been a long time since I bought something for myself so I convince myself it’s okay.

When I get back to my place Ruby and Donald are still sleeping.

“WAKE UP!” I scream and pound on their door. “Get up! Let’s kick it before the wedding.”

They both grumble and I leave the room to die my hair red.

We kick it for a minute and then get dressed for the wedding. Ruby is wearing a black dress with small white polka dots. Her dress looks like it is straight off of an episode of Sex and the City.

When we arrive at the wedding the procession hasnt started yet and we’re glad. It’s an outside wedding at the Vecoma at the Yellow River and the chairs are arranged neatly in rows just like out of a magazine. There are about a hundred people in attendance.

I spy Ms. Suezette Everlasting sitting next to Ron and I give her a big hug. Even though she’s a Gator grad, I had never met her on campus. I didn’t get to meet a lot of people because once I had my kids I pretty much dropped out of the social scene.

I sit next to Kay and she has her cousin sitting next to her.

“I know you!” I squeal at the woman. She smiles faintly.

“That’s my cousin Danielle. She says she knows you from middle school,” Kay says.

I give Danielle a hug and we catch up on the last 13 or so years.

The wedding was amazing. The ceremony was short and to the point. The bridesmaids dresses were the most beautiful I have ever seen. They were a caramel color. Immediately after the ceremony we all walked up to the club house for drinks on the patio and then into the main room for dinner.

The food was off the heezy and the wedding cake was so good I had two pieces. We all drank and laughed and danced. Even the DJ was good! I’ll admit I went to the middle of the floor for the bouquet toss but I wasn’t trying to catch it. And that’s real.

“Tee,” Ruby whispers into my ear. “Suezette got us on the guest list for a club called ONE in midtown. It’s gonna be nice. You’ll love it friend.”

We all ride out to ONE in midtown and ofcourse as is typical in Atlanta, the club has valet parking. We take a look at the long line and Suezette marches right to the front and speaks to the promoter. I have no idea what she’s talking about so I wait patiently. They go back and forth and I hear he words, ‘table’, ‘bottles’ and ‘VIP’.

We walk in a few minutes later and Ruby tells me we bought a table in VIP.

~shaking my thang~

Of all the partying I did in Miami, I have never been in VIP before.

VIP at Club ONE turns out to mean that there is no wait in line and we get to sit down on plush seats while everyone else has to stand.

Our first bottle hits the table and we drink up. Wine bottles start to flow and before I know it I announce, “Now let’s go dance with these down low brothas!”

We hit the dance floor and after only one song the Dj changed his set to…ughhh…reggae. I lowered my head and left the dance floor. Ya’ll know I can’t dance to reggae music.

I spend the rest of the night at the table talking to Suezette and taking short naps. Suezette is just the way I expected her to be, cool as hell. She’s taking pictures all night long in true journalistic fashion. I love it! Ruby says to me, “These pics are gonna be all over facebook by tomorrow.”

I wanna mingle but…I just can’t shake the creeps I am getting about the men here. I have honestly never seen so many gay men in my life. Ok, granted this weekend was gay pride weekend, but they were out in droves and I can’t deny it man…I’m afraid.

At one point Ron, Suezette and I are sitting at the table when Suezette says it is her turn to buy a round of drinks. “Ya’ll want shots of patron?” she asks us.

“Yeah!” We all cheer.

She whispers to the waitress and frowns. “The shots are $14 a piece,” she says sadly. We all frown.

“So?” Ron says. “I don’t want anything else if I can’t have patron.”

Suezette looks at her as if to say, “Bitch you crazy!”

Ron responds quickly in fabulous girl fashion, “Girl, what the hell you mean? BALL OUT BITCH! BALL OUT! That ain’t shit! Buy them drinks!”

Suezette just laughed and waved the waitress away.

I wouldn’t have bought them either. At least not on my current budget. ~smile~

We end the night with all smiles and we head to the Waffle House to fill our bellies before we go home. The clock reads 5:32 am as we pull up to my place.

Monday
Ruby and Donald have to be at the train station by 8am. We all lie down for a quick nap. When Ruby wakes me I pull on my slippers and hop into the car. I notice that it’s 8:30 am. Donald is on the phone with the train station asking them to hold the train.

When we get there we rush in and find that the train is late. ~phew~
I wave goodbye to Ruby and head back to my car.

The ride home is quiet as I reflect on my weekend. It’s not over yet. It’s Labor Day and my goal is to get in touch with Yolanda to finally meet her. I call her and leave a message. My voice is almost gone due to the excessive partying that I had been doing but she calls me back anyway and laughs at me.

She extends an invitation to come to her family barbecue and I take a nap before I head over there.

When I get there her 17 year old daughter greets me. Wow. She’s very pretty. I meet her sons and her other daughter and the famous HH greets me shyly. I produce my contribution to the barbecue; a six pack of Corona and everyone looks at me strangely. I laugh.

“This is a non alcholic house,” her witty daughter tells me with a smile.

Oops.

I thought we would be outside in the heat so I wore my little jean shorts and a tank top but Yolanda says there are too many mosquitoes to be outside. All of a sudden I feel underdressed. LOL!

At this point I realize that I must look like an out of towner with my bright red hair, short shorts and heels. I realized that we show a lot of skin in Miami because it’s so hot and people here dress a lot more conservatively. Oops…I’ll get it together. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.

I grub on turkey burgers that taste like heaven and we all sit down to watch a great movie and half of Chris Rock’s ‘Neva Scared’ comedy show. Tamara calls me and tells me she’s in Decatur and to stop by the house party where she is. I pack up the Corona’s and give Yolanda a hug goodbye.

It turns out that Tamara’s house party is just down the street and I find it easily. I smile as I walk up to the door, beer in hand. Another Black family with a beautiul home. I’m loving Atlanta more and more each day. I say hello to everyone and put my beer on the counter. A quick glance tells me that everyone had been drinking Corona’s as they watched the game. I knew they wouldn’t go to waste.

We all hang out and I watch them play spades until around 9pm. I follow Tamara and AJ back to their house and we sit on the patio and sit wine until about 1 am.

The next day I feel fine and even manage to make it in to work on time.

I’m a soldier. I thought I told ya.

************************************
Thanks for your patience guys. I’m back on track with the blogging now… I can’t wait to tell you all the exciting things that have been happening at the magazine.

See Ya Later!

First Taste Of the Celebrity Life

I woke up today in a really bad mood. All of a sudden I started feeling guilty about my Labor Day weekend and all the freedom I have.

Shouldn’t I be slaving away, grinding to get my kids up here? Shouldn’t I be crying everyday and being sick to my stomache because I’m not where I need to be in life. I have so many goals that are yet accomplished, how dare I go out and party!

This funk lasted for most of the day. Self condemnation is a bitch! I have until the end of November to save enough money to move into another place and have a cushion for when my sons come up here because on my current salary, I can’t take care of my family.

Too bad cuz I really like my job. All I do is interview successful people and write about them. It’s sometimes stressful having to be creative all the time and believe me its not easy at all. I went in there with no experience as a staff writer and thankfully everyone has been patient with me. I’ve even branched out as the content manager and things are rocky for now as I try to balance both jobs but..I’m hanging in there.

The weird thing about my job is I didn’t picture myself doing lifestyle writing. It’s the same thing that happened in Miami when I first began freelancing. All of the jobs that came my way were entertainment oriented. The weird thing is, I’m not that interested in the entertainment industry, least of all rap music. I don’t even own a CD collection.

But here I am at work, holding the position of content manager. There is a big crate of CD’s sitting next to my desk just waiting for us to listen to them and write about them in the magazine. I can review any CD that I want and say anything that I want about it. And my opinion will be distributed across 19 cities in the US. Isn’t that funny?

Today was a pretty big day for me. I had 4 phone interviews in a row. One of them was my first celebrity.

I called Tamara at work after being given my assignment. “Tamara! Um…who is Young Buck?”

She laughed. “Girl! Shorty wanna ride wit me…” she sang.

“Oh yeah…I liked that song. Now tell me what you know about him because I have to interview him this afternoon and I don’t know anything about the man.”

I ended up calling an old friend from Miami to get the real scoop on Young Buck and the interview went okay. I was so nervous because I was relying on information relayed to me by friends.

“How does it feel to be the only Southern rapper in your…um..group? Do you find that there’s a lot of pressure there?”

“We all enjoyed your appearance on Flava of Love. What did you think of the experience and if you could choose one of the women from the contestants, who would it be?”
“I know you just released an underground CD, when can we expect your new album and who will be on it with you?”Child! I was so scared that he was gonna go, “Who the f**k gave you that information.”He was nice though and very cordial. After a grueling day my brain was busted so I left work early at 5pm. Yep, 5pm is EARLY for the magazine. I knew I had to go home to get a quick nap in before I went out to the Billboard R&B and Hip Hop Awards. I snatched up an extra pass for my girl Tamara and she and I rode out there to see who we could see.I worked a little bit as a member of the paparazzi. I stood on the red carpet taking pictures as the artists came by. But then I went inside to enjoy the show. Let’s see if I can remember who was there. Shareefa, Lupe Fiasco, Akon hosted the show.. Young Jeezy appeared. I saw Flava Flav. Um…Alicia Key’s boyfriend. What’s his name? The other half of Crucial Keys. Anyway…Jermaine Dupree was there. Bobby Valentino. I don’t know who else. Oh yeah, Ludacris performed too. Oh yeah…Lyfe Jennings sang 3 songs.I’m sorry that I still don’t have a digital camera. Those would have been great pictures to share with you guys. After the show everyone kinda stood around mingling. I didn’t want to stay so we did a once around the place and we left before midnight.Now I’m about to go to bed because the magazine is having an event tomorrow morning to encourage literacy among the youth and I’m excited to participate. They have been working very hard planning it and I want to do my part.I miss my boys.I really do.

Love Is All Around Me

I think I’m turning into a lesbian.

Or maybe I just hope so.

Why else would I be experiencing such intense feelings of fear when I am around men? I try to talk to my friends about it but they all look at me like I’m crazy and two have warned that if I become a lesbian they will not be able to continue our friendship.

I wish I was a lesbian. Then it would explain the anxiety I experience everytime a man tries to develop a relationship with me. The only thing about being a lesbian is…I don’t want to be in a relationship with a woman and the so called sex is physically unsatisfying.

sooo….I don’t know. There’s been a lot going in my world. Maybe I’m just developing this anxiety because I’m really afraid no man will ever be satisfied with me. It doesn’t help that all of my friends seem to be finding true love.

Guess who is engaged now?

My homegirl Anna. Remember I have two bestfriends from highschool and both of them have gotten engaged this year.

And guess what my son told me? “Mama, daddy and [his girlfriend] are getting married. She’s going to be my new stepmommy.”

It shook me a little bit, but I was more relieved than anything. After I heard that news I wanted to talk to her. When I speak to my sons they always ask me if I want to talk to her. So when they asked me again I told them yeah but their dad shut it down saying, “She doesn’t need to speak to her.”

So yesterday I called to speak to my sons and she answered the phone.

It was my first time ever hearing her voice over the phone and it surprised me but I figured now I had my chance to get some stuff off my chest.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello, umm…I’m looking for my Boo Boo’s.”

“They’re taking a nap right now. May I take a message?”

I laugh. Is she serious?

“Look,” I begin. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone so I continue.

“I know we have not had much of a chance to interact with each other and it’s probably my fault because I guess I was feeling a lot of bitterness and I was upset because of everything that went down with me and their dad and how hard it was to take care of the boys by myself. I wanna apologize for that and I wanna say that I really appreciate how well you take care of my boys. I can be up here and I don’t have to worry about my boys because I know how much their dad loves them and I know that he won’t have anyone around them who won’t treat them right. Thankyou for being so good to my boys,” I say and I can feel myself begin to cry. “I miss them so much but I know that they are being well taken care of and I want to thankyou for that.”

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about your sons. I know they miss you. They talk about you everyday and I know they can’t wait to see you.”

“You have a good day okay?”

“You too.”

I’m glad I got a chance to say that.

I don’t know what’s going on with me but I’m constantly fighting demons and any chance I get to try to make peace I will do so. So now that that’s done, I have to get over this thing with men. It’s gotten so bad that I can’t have fun when men are around. Sure, I can have casual conversation and even flirt a little bit but the minute a man wants my number or wants to hear about my past I clam up. I can’t do it. I guess I’m afraid that after getting to know me he will see what all the other men in my past have seen and decide he wants to run away.

It’s not just romantically. I feel the same fear when it comes to my friend’s fiances. Because I wasn’t there when either of them met these guys I guess it makes me nervous that maybe they will see me as a nuisance and maybe even come in between me and my homegirls. My friends are important to me. I can’t say I’m as happy as I should be because I am being selfish right now and I’m used to being the tag along with my friends and their boyfriends. I’m cool with that as long as the men are cool with me but what if they aren’t?

What if they turn out just like the rest of the men in the world? And what’s worse, what if they treat my friends like the rest of the men in the world and I have to get stupid on them?

This can’t be of God. This is fear and fear is not of God.

I don’t know what it will take for me to get over this but I’m open. I’m prayerful and I’m open to healing in this area. I don’t want to hate men. I don’t want to turn into a lesbian.

All I really want is to be happy and to see my friends happy.

God, can you hear me? I don’t want this hate/fear in my heart anymore.

Late Night Barbecues

I’m in the grocery store looking at cards to send to my sons and I find one that brings tears to my eyes. It reads:

I wish I may
I wish I might
Have you here
To hug all night

~sniffling~

I really need a hug. I miss my sons. I try to look at it as though they need this time with their dad. They are having so much fun with him that I don’t feel too bad, I just wish…

I wish I could be a better mom for them. My track record isn’t so great with handling jobs but I keep on trying…

While I’m in the grocery store I notice that a guy is looking at me. I roll my eyes as I pass him because I’m on the phone with Kim and I’m not the least bit interested in talking to any men.

By the time I’m done picking up my clothes detergent, Publix sub sandwhich, sweet tea and turkey slices I get in line and guess who is behind me? The guy.

He’s with another guy and a chick.

He spies the twix I picked up from the counter.

“Eating all of that candy isn’t good for your teeth,” he says to me.

I roll my eyes. “I can eat what I want,” I say. “It’s a treat. I deserve it.”

“Well maybe you do,” He says and extends his hand. “Hi, what’s your name? I’m Ty.”

I shake his hand firmly and look away.

“Why are you buying this food when you could come to my house tonight? We’re having a barbecue?”

“Tonight?” I ask him and eye his basket. I see chicken and hamburgers and hot dogs. Mmmm….

“We live just down the street. Come and get some food.”

Hmmmm….I was just praying that I get a home cooked meal that I don’t have to cook. Living the single life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I eat out a lot and when I’m home I eat cereal or sandwhiches or hotdogs. Yeah…I’m lazy.

I call his phone from my phone so he can get the number. He seems very polite and I get a good vibe from him. He has no idea that he’s the first man I’ve given my number to since I’ve been here.

I go home and unpack my groceries, planning to turn in early. He calls within 15 minutes.

“Hey Tee,” he greets me.

We chat a bit. He tells me that he just came back from out of town.

“Why did you go out of town?”I ask him.

He pauses and asks, “Are you the police?”

“No,” I say and shake my head. Thuggish.

“You ready to come over?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know you like that and I don’t want to come by myself. Let me call you back.”

I call Vicky but she’s busy so I figure I’m not going. I call him back to tell him and he tries to persuade me to come. “Do you need me to call my Mama so she can tell you that I’m a nice guy and you should come to my barbecue?”

I laugh..”Yeah, do that.”

He clicks over and calls his Mama.

I laugh.

Ok, I’ll go. I’m hungry man.

I stop by the gas station and pick up a 6-pack fo Corona before I head over there. IT’s easy to find and it’s a beautiful home. As soon as I walk in I smile. THIS is the kind of place I can imagine my sons and I living in. I can’t WAIT to get things together…

I meet his friends and I’m impressed. The women are really nice. The men are too. We go outside on the patio and talk a bit. For the first time I look at him. Hmmm…White tee. Air Force ones. Kinda on the thin side. Pitch black. He reminds me of someone. Hmm..He reminds me of Joe.

Wow. He looks just like Joe.

That’s a good thing and a bad thing.

He seems very sweet as he grills up all of the food, while trying to catch a few plays of the football game and still entertain his friends. His Mama calls and he spends time talking to her as if they are buddies.

“I love you Mama,” he says before he hangs up. I smile.

“So tell me something,” he asks. “And stop me if I’m being too forward but…since you just moved up here, when you get lonely, do you curl up on the couch and call your dude back in Miami?”

Ahhh..He wants to know if I have a boyfriend.

I pause considering the answer I want to give him.

“Something like that,” I say.

“I figured,” he says.

His friends sit down to get on some spades after we eat the most delectable food I have eaten in weeks. But um…am I the only black person in America who doesn’t know how to play spades?

I stand behind his chair and watch him play. His friends are hilarious. I make sure not to get too close to him because I don’t want him to try me too hard but I do feel comfortable around him. He does seem like a genuine person. But they ALL seem genuine at first.

“Excuse me if I get too bold,” he tells me as he stands and attempts to grab me by the waist. “I’m very affectionate.”

I roll my eyes as my body tenses. Please let him back away. I’m scared.

“Could you massage my neck?” he asks me once he sits down again, since I’m standing over him.

“No.”

“Why not?’

“Cuz I don’t want you to get used to it.”

“Damn. Its like that? Just this once?”

I roll my eyes. “No.” I say firmly.

He smiles up at me. “You’re above the influence.”

I laugh. I’ve made up my mind about him already. He’s definately booty call material but he’s not boyfriend material. But do I even want to go that route again? He seems to need a little direction in his life. All my life I’ve been motivating men. I’m not sure if I want to do it again.

I make sure that I don’t give this man any indication that I desire his advances. I’m actually being kinda stank wit’ it. He is still being sweet to me. It’s after midnight and I signal that I’m ready to go. He walks me to my car and I’m nervous as hell cuz he’s standing too close.

“Let me give you a hug,” he asks. I let him bring his body close to mine and he gives me a long squeeze. I’m in turmoil. I like it. A lot. I miss the feeling of a man’s arms around me. I need this hug. I almost cry because I realize how much I needed this touch.

The physical touch is so very important. We’re human. We were all made to relate and touch is the most powerful form on interaction. Touches heal. Touches speak more than words. It’s been a minute since I have been touched in this way.

“When can I see you again?” he whispers in my ear. My body immediately tenses up and I realize that I’m not even hugging him back.

I don’t respond. “When can I see you again?” he repeats himself.

I pull away from him and frown. “I don’t know,” I say and open my car door. He closes it behind me and smiles repeating the directions to find my way out of his subdivision.

“Call me tomorrow,” he calls out.

“Whatever!” I say and then gulp because I realize that I said it loudly. He turns around. “Why did you say that?” he asks me.”You’re not gonna call?”

I shrug. “Leave me alone I’m tired.” I say and wave as I drive off.

As I drive home I think about him. It would be nice to have a guy friend in this city. He loves to cook. His friends say he loves to clean. I don’t know man. He’s too much like my type. That’s not a good thing. My type of men don’t turn out to be good for me.

Hmm…Ok, this is it. If he calls me again, I’ll go hang with him and his friends. All of them were cool. But I won’t call him no matter what.

I take his number out of my phone as I unlock my front door.

It’s all in his hands.